


Reunion

by ladydurin_x



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Dis is the MVP, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Shipper Dis, family gathering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-05-24 13:03:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6154651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydurin_x/pseuds/ladydurin_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo and Frerin visit Erebor for the first time in nearly five years. A lot has changed and it's time for a family union.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Return

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally intended to be a oneshot but I suck at those so this is going to have to be a multi-chapter.(I'm aiming for ten-ish)
> 
> OCs  
> Elénia - Thorin's Wife (Natalie Portman)  
> Naerdiel - Fili's Wife (Rose Byrne)
> 
> Also, this is for Natalie. Who is one of my all time favourite people. She's the amazing creator of Elénia and you should all go explore her YT channel: DaughterofDurin because she's amazing and you'll love her.

Bilbo grasped Frerin’s hand tightly in his own as they walked up to Erebor. So many memories came flooding back to Bilbo that he was almost overwhelmed. It had been many years since the Battle of the Five Armies, but it still felt like yesterday – the scar on his head from where he had been knocked out had still yet to fade properly.

He glanced back towards Dale, wondering when he would next see Bard. They had stopped on their journey several times, even the Tookish side of Bilbo Baggins couldn’t travel continuously for almost a year. They had spent a day or so resting in Dale at the invitation of the King. Even now he was king, Bard had remained a generous fellow, gladly offering the weary travellers a room for the night, in exchange for their help to quieten his children with stories of their travels – with no mentions of dragons, of course.

Bilbo traced his hand on the door, newly designed to replace the gaping hole left by Smaug and the makeshift blockade from the days of Thorin’s dragon sickness. The design was, without a doubt, dwarvish in nature though it was clear that Elénia, now queen beside Thorin, had had some influence. It seemed Frerin too had noticed, a low grumble from Bilbo’s side suggested he was not entirely convinced he liked the new door half as much as Bilbo. “Be nice, without Elénia, we may never have met at all!”

Bilbo knew he was laying it on a bit thick, but it was true, Elénia had, after all, been the one to formerly introduce them. The lingering guilt of marrying Thorin despite Bilbo’s, apparently rather obvious, feelings had pushed Elénia into finding him a suitable companion. The result had been her introducing him to Frerin with a wry grin. One look at Thorin’s brother and Bilbo had been irrevocably smitten.

“Hello!”

Bilbo jumped at the sound. He doubted he would ever get used to the booming voices of dwarves. Hobbits were, of course, naturally quiet souls – one of the many reasons Bilbo had no intention of introducing Frerin to his extended family any time soon.

The heavy door swung open surprisingly quickly and a familiar face appeared almost immediately, a delighted smile soon replacing the confusion upon it.

“Uncle Frerin! Fee, it’s Frerin! And he’s brought Bilbo!”

Bilbo smiled as Kíli barrelled into him, all formalities forgotten in his excitement. “It’s good to see you too, Kíli,” Bilbo beamed as Kíli stepped back to appraise him.

Thorin’s youngest nephew grinned impishly at him before moving over to greet his uncle with a familiar head butt. Dwarvish customs would forever be strange to Bilbo, but the sight of Frerin so comfortable and content with his family brought a smile to his face.

A tap on the shoulder alerted Bilbo to Fíli’s presence. Always the quieter of the too, he was watching his brother patiently, a fond smile not completely concealed by his carefully stoic expression. “Hello, Bilbo,” he nodded in the hobbit’s direction politely.

“Fíli.”

“Uncle Frerin! It’s been far too long.”

Frerin nodded in agreement, clapping his broad hand on Fíli’s back. Bilbo winced, still remembering the number of weapons Fíli had always carried during their journey together. Fortunately, it seemed that a life of diplomacy did not require half as many weapons as a life on the road.

“Where is that brother of mine?”

“Thorin’s busy with some messengers from the Iron Hills. I’ll let him know you’re here. It’s good to see you,” he added, a grin slipping from his reserved façade as Kíli nudged him with his shoulder.

Bilbo stared at the brothers for a moment. His fondness for them both hadn’t faded in their time apart. Though it seemed some things had changed somewhat.

“Kíli, your beard!”

Kíli bashfully put his hand to his chin. What had been little more than stubble the last time Bilbo had seen him had sprouted into the beginnings of a real beard, complete with a short braid hanging proudly from his chin. “Tauriel hates it,” he breamed happily, as if this was the best thing he had ever heard.

Bilbo smiled politely as Fíli rolled his eyes good humouredly at his brother.

“Are we going to keep to keep them out here forever?”

Kíli blinked before stepping aside hurriedly, allowing Fíli to lead them inside.

“Welcome to Erebor, home of Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, King under the Mountain.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Frerin muttered with a good natured elbow to Kíli’s ribs.

“Behave,” Bilbo hissed, biting back a smile of his own.

He had the tact to act ashamed, but the bright twinkle in his eyes made it quite clear that he was, in fact, quite pleased with himself.

They made their way quickly through the long halls, beautifully refurbished and no longer smelling faintly of dragon and decay. Bilbo took in the sight, open mouthed and unblinking in his appreciation.

“Looks great, doesn’t it?”

Bilbo nodded. It really did. To have seen Erebor when they’d first taken it back and now, one would hardly recognise it as the same place.

“Mum and Elénia took forever to agree on a colour scheme.”

“That sounds like your mother. The blue looks good,” Frerin grinned, inspecting a tapestry that appeared to detail the events of the Battle of the Five Armies. “I think Grandfather would have approved.”

“He didn’t approve of anything, _nadad_ , what makes you think he would have approved of any of this?”

Frerin turned quickly, joy spreading unchecked across his face. “Dís!”

Bilbo stepped quickly out of the way, he was well practised, as the siblings barrelled into on another, their embrace turning quickly from sobs of joy to playful punches. After a few moments, Dís suddenly noticed Bilbo, extracting herself expertly from her brother’s tight headlock and grinning at the hobbit expectantly.

 “Bilbo Baggins, I presume. Thorin speaks of you so highly I must confess I half expected you to be a giant.”

Her voice was strangely gruff and deep for a woman’s, though not unpleasantly so and, despite her neatly shaven stubble, she was quite pleasant to look at. A family trait, it would seem. The dwarrowdam in front of him certainly favoured her elder brother, the same dark hair and piercing blue eyes, Bilbo had always admired on Thorin. On Dís they added a nobility similar to that of Thorin that Frerin’s wildness simply did not allow. The nose too, whilst more petite on their sister was a mirror of that of both Thorin and Frerin. As an only child, Bilbo had always been intrigued by the similarities of siblings.

Dís watched him in amusement as he studied her before gasping. “Forgive my rudeness, Thorin would be horrified I hadn’t introduced myself immediately. I am Dís, sister of your Frerin, mother of the elf- loving lunatics that greeted you and sister of the elf-loving king under this very mountain.” She flashed Bilbo a warm smile before winking in Frerin’s direction. She was definitely Kíli’s mother and Bilbo liked her already. He returned the smile wholeheartedly before they continued on their tour.

It was rather nice for Bilbo to see Frerin, and Dís, in his childhood home. Most of the time he had spent here with Thorin had been marred by the dragon sickness but Frerin was taking in his old home with a strange mixture of wonder and glee.

They finally reached the throne room where Bilbo couldn’t help but gawp helplessly at the cavernous space. As with every other part of Erebor, it had been returned to its former glory, and then some. The walls glistened and their footsteps echoed, bouncing off the miles upon miles of walls beneath them. Bilbo took a moment to look towards the throne. The tear Smaug had taken out of it remained, much to his surprise.

“It shows even a dragon cannot beat us,” Dís explained when she noticed Bilbo’s confusion. “Besides, it gives the drab old thing far more character than that trouble making old gem.”

Bilbo shuddered as he looked at the Arkenstone, perched proudly above the seat of the chair. After all the pain and trouble it had caused him, he had hoped never to see it again.

“Hello.”

The gentle voice startled Bilbo from his reverie, He smiled as Elénia came into view, her smile as radiant as he remembered it. It was no wonder Thorin had fallen so hard for her. She inclined her head in Frerin’s direction, clearly not one for the overly physical greetings of dwarves. Elves always had seemed far more reserved in that regard.

At least until she grasped Bilbo by the shoulders, pulling him into a firm embrace. “Oh, I’ve missed you, Bilbo!”

Bilbo squeaked in surprise. As swiftly as she had pulled him in, she had released him, immediately business like once more.

“Thorin will be with us as promptly as he is able. I did ask that he left the politics alone for the night Its been far too long since the Durin family was together as a whole. There is so much catching up to me done!” She jerked her head in the direction of Bilbo and Frerin’s freshly intertwined hands with a quick, almost imperceptible wink in Dís’ direction.

XxXxX

 


	2. The Feast

Bilbo fiddled absentmindedly with the fringing of the ornate table cloth, nervous to see Thorin after so long, though he didn’t know why.

A large hand covered his suddenly. He blinked, jumping slightly at the contact, before looking up at Frerin. “I’m fine,” he whispered, placing his free hand on top of Frerin’s. He looked up from their joined hands to find Dís smiling knowingly at them before sighing and turning her gaze towards the door.

“By Durin, if my brother doesn’t hurry up-” she stopped herself with a dignified huff.

Elénia coughed, though from the glimmer in her eyes it seemed clear to Bilbo that she was doing her best to hide her laughter. “I promise you, gwathel, my husband will be with us shortly. If not, well, there are many ways to ensure it never happens again.”

Dís shuddered. “Spare me the details.”

Bilbo nearly choked on his shock, relieved when the door swung upon to reveal Thorin, flanked on either side by Balin and Dwalin. He beamed as Balin pointed him out to his brother, smiling happily. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed them both.

“My apologies, I was delayed.” Thorin pressed a kiss to his wife’s cheek. He scanned the crowd, his lips pressing together tightly as he noted Bilbo’s presence. “Master Baggins.”

Bilbo raised from his chair, his mother’s etiquette lessons not wholly wasted as she had feared, as Thorin slowly approached him. Even now, the sight of him, especially in his kingly garb, was enough to take Bilbo’s breath momentarily. He mentally shook himself, plastering what he hoped was a warm smile on his face as Thorin clasped his outstretched hand in his two much larger ones.

“Master Baggins,” he repeated. “It is very good to see you again.”

“And you!” Bilbo squeaked. “My Lord.”

Thorin laughed gently, the deep sound echoing off the stone walls of the hall. “None of that. I owe you my life, and that of my kin, Bilbo.” He released Bilbo’s hand. “To you of all people, I am forever simply Thorin.”

Bilbo felt himself blush. From beside him he heard a low chuckle. He pointedly ignored Frerin as he returned to his seat.

“Brother!”

“Nadad!”

An irritable part somewhere in the back of Bilbo’s mind wished that Frerin would stick to Westron, just for his sake. Or at the very least teach him some simple words and greetings. As the reunion carried on between the brothers, spoken entirely in Khuzdul, he caught Elénia’s eye. It seemed he was not the only one to whom the language of the dwarves would remain forever foreign.

Thorin finished greeting his brother and returned to his seat, apologising once more for the delay.

“You’re here now. Let’s eat!” Frerin boomed, the shouts from the other dwarves, with the exception of his siblings, who simply rolled their eyes fondly, suggested that his was a very welcome proposal.

Bilbo smiled as the food, prepared, according to Dwalin at least, by Bombur, was served. It looked wonderful. His stomach gurgled in approval as he swallowed his first mouthful.

It was a sight to behold, the feasting before Bilbo that evening. Dwarvish table manners no longer shocked nor offended Bilbo, though he couldn’t help but have a quiet chuckle at just how out of place their elven companions seemed.

There was, beneath her beauty and gentle charms, a wildness to Elénia that allowed her to seem quite at home amongst the rambunctious dwarves. Her body was half curved over her plate ass if she were a wolf defending a kill. It was in such moments that Bilbo truly appreciated how and why Thorin had fallen so hard for the half-elf. Tauriel and Naerdiel, on the other hand, looked unbearably poised and stoic as they enjoyed their food. Tauriel grinned openly at Kíli, suggested that more of her behaviour was for her cousin’s benefit than her own. A tight smile on Naerdiel’s face as she watched Fíli, however, suggested that her fondness for her husband was barely containing her dismay at his lack of table manners. Bilbo flinched as a half-eaten chicken leg flew past her at Fíli’s head, no doubt a gift from his brother.

“So, Bilbo, has my brother been treating you well?” Dís asked as she wiped a stray trickle of broth from her stubble covered chin. “Or must I have words with him?”

Bilbo flushed as all the eyes around the table, including Frerin’s fell on him. He swallowed his mouthful, clearing his throat before answering. “Very well, actually. He is very attentive to my needs.”

Several snickers from around the table made Bilbo’s face burn up with a mortified blush. Dís silenced her assembled kin with a glare that would have had even Gandalf quaking in his boots. She looked even more like Thorin when she used it.

“So, are we to be attending another wedding soon? It’s been far too long!”

Bilbo choked, spluttering painfully as Frerin smacked his back with one hand, continuing to scoop his food into his mouth with the other. Bilbo envied his easy nonchalance. “I’m quite alright,” he assured the concerned company. “I-”

Thorin frowned as Bilbo stumbled over his words. “Don’t tease the poor fellow, Dís. Bilbo is an esteemed guest and I would have you treat him as such-”

“He is also a potential member of this family. I do _so_ love weddings.”

“You don’t have to answer any of his questions, Bilbo.”

Bilbo could feel his cheeks burning. He was becoming afraid he might truly combust (after everything with Smaug it would have been pretty ironic, he thought with a morbid smile). “We’ve never discussed such matters.”

Dís grin didn’t falter. If anything, it grew, falling instead upon her brother. “Well-”

Mercifully, Bilbo was not the only one growing tired of the conversation.

“Dís!” Thorin’s tone was light, but made it quite clear that the subject was over. Bilbo could have kissed him.

“Consider yourself lucky, Bilbo. She missed our wedding to track down Tauriel. Poor girl had refused to marry Kíli. She regretted that after Dís decided to chase after her to ‘talk some sense into her’.”

Tauriel laughed. “I didn’t _refuse_. I just said I thought we should wait a while. Kíli understood my decision.”

Dís clicked her tongue. “None of us were getting any younger!”

Naerdiel sighed from beside Fíli. “She was worried she would be hated for ensuring that Thorin and _both_ of his nephews had been ensnared by elves.”

Bilbo raised an eyebrow. It was the most he’d ever heard Tauriel’s cousin say. He had hear such talk being discussed before Thorin’s weeding but he was surprised to hear them discuss it so casually. He glanced towards Elénia who met his gaze steadily.

“You can’t choose who you fall for,” she stated simply, smiling as Thorin brushed his lips against her knuckles.

“Let’s drink to that,” Frerin laughed, downing the remainder of his ale in one long gulp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised I forgot to put my fancast for Frerin down when I listed the OCs last time -.-
> 
> Frerin - Gerard Butler  
> Elenia - Natalie Portman  
> Naerdiel - Rose Byrne
> 
> Sorry that it's shorter than the last one. I just wanted to finish something to celebrate having passed my Theory Test yesterday!!!!
> 
> Nadad - brother (Khuzdul)  
> Gwathel - sister (Sindarin)


	3. After the Feast

Later that night, Bilbo followed sleepily as Dís lead him to his room, closely followed by Frerin who, despite his many protestations, had clearly had rather too much to drink.

“Far over! The misty-” He hiccupped loudly.

Bilbo stopped, glancing uncertainly at Dís who simply shrugged.

“He’s big enough, and certainly ugly enough, to take care of himself. It’s his own fault. He has never been able to admit how much of a lightweight he really is when it comes to good ale.”

Bilbo, despite feeling the urge to come to Frerin’s defence, couldn’t argue with that. There had been many occasions during their journey in which Bilbo had been sure that Frerin’s intolerance for ale was going to get them into a great deal of trouble.

“I love you so much, Díssy, I really, really do. I don’t say it often enough.” Bilbo bit back a laugh as Frerin draped his arm across his sister’s shoulder. “You might be a terrible cook, but you’re a wonderful sister.”

He hiccupped again.

“Can I tell you a secret, Dís?”

She nodded looking very much like she was nearing the end of her patience. It was quite the feat, given she was mother to Fíli and Kíli. “Mhmmm.”

“I really love Bilbo. I think I should quite like to marry him.”

Dís grinned as Bilbo blushed. “I think that’s a marvellous idea. Maybe you should tell him.”

“No!” Frerin wailed, dropping his head to rest on the arm still leaning on her shoulder. “Too embarrassing.”

She patted his head gently. “Okay, you don’t have to tell him just yet.” They continued walking, Dís now stuck supporting Frerin’s substantial weight, until they came to an ornately carved door. Without ceremony she flung the door open, pushing Frerin inside. “You’ll be sharing this room. Everything you’ll need has already been provided. Let it not be said that my brother is a poor host.”

Bilbo tried not to dwell on the way that she had emphasised the words _everything_ and _need_. “We’ll be sharing?”

“Of course, we’re all adults here-”

A loud thump interrupted her as Frerin walked into a wall. “Whoops!”

“ _You and I_ are adults,” she corrected with a disdainful look at her now silently giggling brother.  “Thorin thought you might be more comfortable sharing with Frerin. I agreed. There is a spare bed, however, just in case he gets too annoying.” She glanced down. “I’m afraid you may need it sooner than I’d anticipated. Good night, Bilbo. Mahal help you with that hangover, you great rock head,” she added, folding her arms in a very motherly fashion as she watched Frerin grip the wall to pull himself upright. “You might be an embarrassment, but you’re my brother and I love you. I’ll see you both in the morning.”

Bilbo bowed his head awkwardly as Dís stomped off to what Bilbo assumed must be her own room. At least, he assumed as much until the door opened, the light from the room casting the very distinct silhouette on the opposite wall. Bilbo looked away guiltily, closing the door to his own room behind him.

“Come on, you. Let’s get you to bed.” He was grateful that, even when hopelessly drunk, Frerin was always carefully aware of their size difference. The intoxicated dwarf did his best to support most of his own weight as Bilbo guided him to one of the beds where a dwarf-made set of nightclothes had been carefully folded.

Frerin did his best to dress himself, looking like an overgrown toddler as he did so. Bilbo shook his head, eventually giving in an offering him as much help as the dwarf would allow. Gently, Bilbo guided him to the larger of the two beds, lowering him down and pulling the sheets up around his shoulders before making his way over to the smaller, more hobbit-sized (probably meaning it was actually designed for a child of some race) bed.

“I’m not sharing with you?” Frerin realised suddenly, the dismay in his voice bringing a fond smile to Bilbo’s face.

“What’s my rule?”

“When I drink I get no-”

“I would never put it so crudely, but yes. Besides, I would much rather you didn’t make a mess of this lovely nightwear. I am already quite fond of it.” He made a mental note to ask Dís what the fabric was.

“Can I at least get a goodnight kiss?”

Bilbo laughed as Frerin jutted his bottom lip out.

“Very well. But only one, then you must go to sleep!”

Frerin nodded, his blue eyes wide and his hair wild as he watched Bilbo’s approach. The hobbit self-consciously brushed a wayward strand of that wild hair from the bridge of his nose before leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his chapped lips.

“Good night, Frerin.”

“ _Amrâlimê_ ,” Frerin whispered sleepily in return, his eyes already closed by the time the last syllable had left his lips.

“And you, you giant oaf,” Bilbo grinned into his pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to add the fancast for Dis, because I am a bumbling idiot. 
> 
> Dis - Lara Pulver
> 
> Sorry, this is super short. The next one WILL BE LONGER, I SWEAR IT!

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> Nadad - brother.


End file.
